Finally, finally, it took a powerful panther Alpha and a very exhausted Fox Lord to finally drag the high Tiger back to the village. The entire ti, Shěn continuously purred, happily making circles in the air while the most powerful n in the Thousand Fang Tribe severely regretted their life choices.
The whole ti, Bai Yue tried to avoid laughing, although a few snickers escaped her lips occasionally.
By the ti the sun finally dipped below the horizon, replacing the vibrant green canopy with the silver glow of the twin moons, the Thousand Fang Tribe had settled into a peaceful quiet.
The chaotic events of the day had drained every last ounce of energy from Bai Yue’s body.
She had cooked, she had been carried through the jungle, she had witnessed an elite assassin turn into a housecat, and she was emotionally exhausted from trying to decipher Han Shān’s confusing behavior.
Inside her small, dimly lit hut, Bai Yue lay spread-eagle on her woven fur mattress. She was deeply, blissfully asleep. In fact, she was snoring.
It wasn’t a delicate, ladylike sound, either. It was a soft snore that fluttered her lips with every exhale.
The cubs were safely tucked away for the night. Yòu Lín was sleeping in Zhāo Yàn’s spacious hut across the clearing, and Ruì Xuě was curled up beside Han Shān in his own ho. For the first ti in days, Bai Yue was completely alone.
Or so she thought.
Outside, a shadow detached itself from the side of Mo Xiao’s storage hut, creeping silently through the tall grass.
It was none other than her first son.
The panda kit.
Hóng Yè’s breathing was shallow and ragged. In his right hand, his knuckles were turning white from how tightly he was gripping a thick, heavy wooden stick. One end of it had been sharpened against a rock until it was as lethal as a bone spear.
The teenage Red Panda didn’t look like the grumpy, blushing boy who had lted at the taste of hot soup that morning.
His amber eyes were completely dark, filled with a deep, festering rage that had been brewing inside him for years.
She is just tricking them, Hóng Yè thought, his chest heaving as he stared at the entrance to Bai Yue’s hut. She is tricking all of them. Uncle Zhāo Yàn, Han Shān, even the cubs. They don’t rember what she really is.
Every ti he closed his eyes, Hóng Yè didn’t see the smiling woman who had fed Ruì Xuě soup.
He saw the vicious, sneering female who had kicked his father, Yan Shu, to the ground.
He rembered the biting cold of the winter nights when she had refused to let them sleep near the fire. He rembered the hollow, agonizing ache of hunger in his stomach while she ate the best cuts of at.
Most of all, he rembered the sound of his father weeping quietly into the night, his gentle heart completely broken by the mate he had loved so desperately.
She doesn’t get to be happy, Hóng Yè gritted his teeth, a tear of pure fury escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. She broke us. She broke my papa. I have to protect them. I have to finish this before she hurts snowflake and Yòu Lín again!
His bare feet made no sound on the dirt as he slipped past the heavy hide curtain serving as the door to her hut.
It was dark inside, illuminated only by a sliver of moonlight filtering through a crack in the roof.
There she was.
The cursed female.
Bai Yue was lying on her side, her face relaxed, softly snoring into her fur blanket. She looked so small, so innocent. It made Hóng Yè’s blood boil even hotter. How dare she sleep so peacefully? How dare she act like nothing had happened?
Hóng Yè stepped closer. His heart was pounding terribly loud against his ribs he was scared it would wake her up.
He stopped right beside her sleeping mat. He raised the sharpened wooden stick high above his head with both hands, his slender arms shaking violently.
Do it, the dark, wounded voice in his head scread. Do it for Papa! Kill the cursed female!
He squeezed his eyes shut. He braced himself, plunging his arms downward with all the teenage strength he could muster.
He was going to end it.
Suddenly, a massive, calloused hand clamped completely over his mouth and nose, violently cutting off his breath.
Before Hóng Yè could even open his eyes or let out a muffled scream, a second hand, heavy and terrifyingly strong, gripped his neck.
With a single motion, Hóng Yè was yanked backward into the air. His feet completely left the ground. The sharpened stick was wrenched from his trembling fingers with a sharp snap, completely neutralizing his attack.
The teenager thrashed wildly, kicking his legs, but it was like fighting a mountain. The person holding him didn’t make a single sound.
Uh? Is that.....
He was dragged backward out of the hut so fast his vision blurred.
The hide curtain rustled softly as they exited, and then he was thrown roughly, but silently, into the dirt several yards away from Bai Yue’s door.
"Ugh!" Hóng Yè gasped, hitting the ground and scrambling backward like a cornered animal.
He bared his fangs, his chest heaving, prepared to fight whoever had just stopped him. Was it Zhāo Yàn? Was it the Dragon Prince?
Hóng Yè looked up into the darkness.
The air around him instantly plumted to a freezing temperature.
Standing over him, completely was a towering, broad-shouldered figure.
The figure stepped forward, the silver light catching on his face.
Hóng Yè froze, his breath turning to white vapor in the suddenly freezing air.
Staring down at him with a pair of furious, glowing blue eyes, was Han Shān.
The Snow Leopard’s eyes were filled with a burning malice to the kit’s surprise.
He wasn’t radiating his usual indifference. No, he looked like he wanted to kill him.
Han Shān looked at the broken, sharpened stick in his hand, and then down at the terrified teenager trembling in the dirt.
"What," Han Shān hissed, his voice a terrifying rumble that promised violence, even to a boy he considered his son, "did you think you were doing, boy?"
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